Unveiled Heart
by MissTwilight
Summary: Complete summary on first Chapter page. I couldn't really condense it!
1. The Customer

**_Unveiled Heart by MissTwilight_**

**Summary:**

After Matt lost his battle to Leukemia, Livia Jameson made a promise that never again would her heart be taken. Men were off-limits. This didn't take much effort at all--guys never seemed to be interested anyway. But, then after two years, she met Adam... an actor. Feelings start to arise and our protagonist has to make a decision--Try to do everything to push him away or unbind the shackles she put on herself and unveil her heart... no matter the cost.

**Prologue**

My hand trembled as his fingers brushed mine. The warmth of it sent shivers up my spine. He looked at our conjoined hands and smiled a very satisfied and contented smile, which made the butterflies in my stomach come to life. For, I finally knew that his feelings for me were genuine.

**Chapter 1: The Customer**

My fingers tapped the edge of the counter, signaling the next customer to come up and pay for her candy. Her hands gripped the sugary solids as if they were the source of life. I laughed; she was one of the regular customers who were a little messed up in the noggin. Her heels clicked on the tiled floors as she came closer to me.  
"Hello, how are you?" I asked politely.  
"I'm just doing terrible today Livia. People have been asking too much of me lately!" The lady punched the air as if it was the person or persons being referred to.  
I nodded sympathetically.  
"I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am," I pointed to the selected purchases. "Is this all for today?"  
"Well, yeah. I've decided to go on a diet, so no more Snicker bars for me," There was a hint of sadness in her usually energetic tone.  
The woman handed me five dollars.  
"Thanks, but… isn't this a little much? The total amount is only about one buck,"  
"You keep the change, Livia. No offense, honey, but there has to be something you're interested in other than working in this gas station! The money could be saved up to join a yoga class or whatever," She smiled, despite the fact that she basically just told me that I've got no life whatsoever outside of work. The nerve.  
As the woman pulled the door open to leave, I put on my best fake smile, trying to conceal the new ill feelings that were now brewing inside the pit of my stomach. She had no right to say that to me! Stupid woman.

Right as my eyes were about to close, a big bang sounded on the counter. I jumped, frightened of having something happen to the gas station while I'm the only one running it for the night. My hands grabbed on to the closest thing in front of me—a hand. Wait, huh? I thought there weren't any more customers here anymore, so why was I clutching someone's hand? This made no sense.  
My hand slowly retreated, losing contact with the person's soft, warm skin. I looked up into the eyes of a man—tall, muscular, with a slight summer tan. He looked to be in his mid-twenties—about my age.  
I cringed. Twenty-six. I'm getting older and older and you can tell by the way I look. My eyes spotted frown indications the other day.  
"Oh, I'm sorry, miss! I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?" His voice was low and smooth—he sounded like he'd be an exceptional vocalist.  
"I'm fine, sir. It's okay. I just thought I was alone," I said passively, trying to make him forget what I probably looked like then.  
There was a pause.  
"Okay, then. Here's my stuff!" The male pointed to the huge stack of products he intended to buy.

"You want to buy… all that? Is this for just yourself or what?" I said lightly.  
He grinned.  
"Nah, it's for the rest of the cast. All that work makes you hungry, I guess. None of it's for me."  
I didn't get it. What did he mean by 'rest of the cast'? My fingers fiddled with my smooth, dark brown hair.  
"What do you mean by 'the cast'? I'm a little confused, you see," I blushed, embarrassed.  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I get ahead of myself sometimes," He paused, suddenly cautious. "I'm an actor. Does that clear it up for you, uh…"  
"Livia. My name's Livia Jameson."  
"Livia?"  
"Yes?"  
"That's a beautiful name."  
My cheeks grew hot when he said my name. It was like music.  
"Thank you."  
He sighed.  
"I'm Adam, by the way. Adam Dickinson. Don't forget it! After we're done filming and the movie comes out, girls are going to faint at the sight of me. They'll be jealous of you, Miss Livia Jameson. Pretty, young, Livia Jameson," He paused, thinking of it. "I can see it now."  
"One problem, Mr. Big Ego—they wouldn't know me. One encounter with a potentially famous person does not automatically make me a celebrity."  
Adam grabbed my hand and held it gently.  
"So you're saying we'll never see each other again?"  
"I do, frankly."  
"I'd like to change that. Do you wanna go out this Friday?"


	2. Intrusion

I just stared at him, uncomprehending. He confidently waited for my response.  
"What'd you say?"  
"I asked if I could take you out this Friday… is this okay?"  
My breathing grew uneven as I remembered Matt's death. He was my first love—only love. We had been together for nine years before he died of leukemia a while ago. After his passing, I swore to myself that never again would 'falling in love' be on my to-do list. This means, no guys—whatsoever.  
"No. I can't… I'm sorry." I started ringing up his stuff without looking away from it. I wouldn't let him see me cry because I'd start feeling vulnerable which isn't good… at all. Guys always took advantage of a girl's vulnerability. It wasn't going to happen here. I yanked my hand out of his.  
"May I ask why?"  
"No, you may not, sir." I paused. "I'm done now. Do you have any money? You need to pay now."  
Adam looked flustered, but still kept his smile in tact.   
"As a matter of fact, I do! Isn't that lovely?" He laughed. "I always seem to lose it. Here it is!" Adam handed me his cash, but closed his hand around mine. "If you're willing to change your mind, give me a call."  
I forced my hand away. "Have a nice day, sir. Come see us again!" I didn't want to say that last part, but it was the business policy. I suddenly detested it.  
As he walked out the door, he turned back slightly towards me. "I might take you up on that."

The next day continued on the same pattern as yesterday, except for the fact that Adam was not there. You'd think he would, but he didn't seem like the type of guy who would remember an average-looking girl like me. What do I have to offer, anyway? My hair is stick-straight and I'm paler than a ghost! The eyes God decided to 'grant' me with didn't seem to like sticking to one color, either. That was definitely NOT the type of girl a beautiful-looking actor would want. No, he'd remember a woman who had platinum blonde hair, a dark tan, fresh manicure and pedicure… that sort of thing. And that woman wasn't Livia Jameson. I shook my head in utter dismay.  
But, why should I care? Didn't the promise to Matt mean anything to me now? That was the reason why I turned Adam down, so why was breaking it seem so appealing? The reason didn't come. My forehead creased as I contemplated. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as my eyes closed tight. The hollow part in my stomach ripped open.  
"Livia… Livia? Livia?!" Mark Phelps, the store manager, frantically tore away from his office and ran to me. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"  
Oh. I didn't know anyone could notice my emptiness, but I guess so. I'd been trying so hard to hide it.  
"Say Something!"  
"I—I…" I fought to find a logical response that didn't leave him worrying about me.  
"Yes?" He prompted.  
"I'm fine. I—I was just thinking of…"   
"Matt," He finished.  
Mark knew of my old boyfriend and had helped me through life those first few months after he died. Without him, I don't know where I'd be now… probably dead, I supposed.

When the apparent tears stopped flowing, Mark breathed in a deep sigh of relief. His features softened as I looked into his deep blue eyes, watching for any signs of discomfort… there were none. They were only full of understanding. My heart fluttered when he squeezed my left hand.  
"Okay now?" He whispered soothingly, making the whole room go quiet at the sound of his smooth voice.  
I just nodded, not taking my eyes off of him. Mark's hand gently stroked my damp cheek, drying some of my tears. For the briefest instant, his fingers traced my lips. I breathed in deeply, taking in his natural scent. He didn't really need anything to help him smell better. Everything about the gas station manager was natural… and unbelievably effortless. I'm sure many people envied him for it.   
"Good. Are you ready to get back to work now?"  
"I—I… I think so." I paused. "Thanks Mark. I appreciate it.'  
He shrugged.  
"You're my friend and that's what friends do for each other, right?" His mouth formed a smile.  
"Right."   
"Great, well… think you can make it through the rest of the day?"  
I laughed weakly.  
"I think so."

When I calmed down enough to start working again, a customer whom I didn't recognize was impatiently tapping her Prada sandals. She was holding a brown package that was about the size of a five foot, six inch cylinder. I watched this woman through Mark's office window.  
The feeling of dread washed over me. My head was telling me to help this lady, but my will was just the opposite. Something else inside my soul was screaming not to come closer. The two messages blended together and made my stomach ache with uncertainty.  
Suddenly, the woman's eyes fell on mine. Her brow furrowed in utter annoyance and revulsion. It was like she'd never seen an average-looking girl ever in her wealthy and fictitious life. The thought of that disgusted me.  
"Are you Livia Jameson?" She asked snidely, narrowing her sapphire blue eyes.  
I casually strolled over to the woman standing in the middle of the store, trying to ignore her unscrupulousness. After all, biting the hook would result in big trouble.

"Do you need anything, ma'am?"  
The lady lifted her chin, successfully accomplishing the pretentious look. It took everything in my power to not roll my eyes and tell her that she's, in fact, not making herself look any better by doing that.  
"Someone told me to hand-deliver this package to you," She shoved the heavy entity into my arms and walked off without another word.  
How odd, I thought. Who, in her circle of 'friends' would think of me? No, here's a better question: How would they even know me enough to care this much? There was no answer. Just the soft purr of the air vents and occasional pitter patter of footsteps coming and going.  
I set the substantial gift down on the pay desk. My fingers traced the sophisticated designs on the shiny crimson wrapping paper. I found the scissors that are kept in my purse and carefully cut it, avoiding places that hadn't a hard surface underneath. By the time I completed the task, my eyes were bulging out of their sockets because the cylinder object was in fact, a HUGE vase filled with chocolate and caramel candy hearts. A glossy card was prominently displayed on top of the sugary sweets, making the whole bestowal even more momentous.


	3. Friends?

This had to be sent to another Livia Jameson. I mean, it was the only logical explanation that was conjured up in my head. I've never been liked by many people—they usually thought I was always pushing people away. Which, made sense I guess.  
Right before I was about to call for Mark and have him redeliver the package, my curiosity ate away at my will. I could at least be sure and read the card, right? Surely the true recipient wouldn't mind too much. I'd just scan it and be done.  
My fingers gently flipped open the card so that I could just skim over the text. There was only one sentence scrawled on it in topaz lettering.  
It simply read, '_I'm up for a little challenge, Livia Jameson_'   
I furrowed my eyebrows. So… he thinks I'm some sort of game? The jerk. If Adam's up for a game, I suggest that he see the girl that lives down the street from me… she's full of late-night activities he'd like to play. I was sure. He seems like the exact type of barbaric animal who'd spend time with someone like that.   
"So, what are you pissed at today?" The customer who angered me yesterday was smirking. Who was this woman, anyway? She really didn't know me!  
"What do you mean? I'm fine," I replied, glazing over my annoyance with fake sincerity.  
She sighed.   
"Like I said, you need something other than this job. If not a special class or whatever, a man would do the job, too."

I stared at her oblivious face. The woman was all smiles whenever she gave me not-so-friendly advice. It was very bothersome.  
"I don't need a man, Miss. They're overrated."  
She laughed.   
"Hard relationships?"  
"Um, you could say that."   
"Aw, they couldn't have been that bad."  
"Uh… yes they could." My voice was hesitant.  
The lady shook her red head of hair as she breathed in deeply, taking in my mournful emotions.  
"My apologies, Livia."  
I lifted my eyebrows and bagged her dietary purchases without another word. This female had no right to dig into my personal life at all. Why did she act like we were friends?  
By the time I was finished, the woman was checking her cheap, Walmart watch.  
"Thank you very much," she said passively, suddenly in a hurry. When I was about to say something back, she had disappeared. Good riddance.  
My eyes scanned the empty parking lot, reasonably bored. No one ever came to this gas station anymore… I wonder why. A sarcastic laugh sounded off my chapped lips. It was because of me.

The clock on the far right side of the grimy wall tolled as the eighteenth hour arose. It was now time for me to go home after a rather eventful day at work. I picked up my sugar-filled vase with much effort and carefully placed it into my dark green, 1997 Honda Civic. The gift gleamed in the Minneapolis afternoon sunshine.   
"Hey, Livia! Do you need any help with your stuff?" Mark's tenor voice rang sweetly in my ears. I turned around to see him standing two feet away from me and sure enough, he was grinning broadly. It seemed like we were sharing some inside joke no one knew about but us.  
"Nah, I'm fine now. The thing I got today was a heavy load, though," I smiled back.  
"Why didn't you ask for me before? I could've saved you the trouble of almost killing yourself!" He laughed.  
"I'll remember that next time," I replied lightheartedly.  
"That's good," Mark paused. "Well, I gotta go. Have a good rest of the day!"  
My smile faded and all the warmth that was felt was lost when he turned away from me to go to his car. The sun seemed to form a golden halo around his dirty blonde hair and the summer breeze made his flannel shirt whip back, outlining his chest muscles. I wasn't really in the best angle to see it, though. Mark's back was to me. My feet were planted on the ground, watching him pull out of the parking lot in a yellow Jeep.

When I got home to my old rickety-looking house, the need to mow the lawn shattered my reasonably good mood with a loud pang. The faded grass rose up all the way to my knees and knotted around whatever came in contact with it. My hands grabbed at it and started pulling the strands out.  
Suddenly, I heard a car honk from behind me. My head turned to the side so that the automobile was in my peripheral vision. I struggled as I got tangled in the green forest of grass.   
"Is that the infamous Livia? The girl who works at the local gas station?" The voice was all too familiar.  
Scarlet rose to my pale cheeks as Adam's handsome face came into view. He looked amused in his shiny black BMW.  
"It's me," I said quietly, ogling at his perfect features.  
He laughed and casually got out of his car, advancing towards me. My breath got stuck in my dry throat as his paradisiacal body grew closer and closer, making it impossible to concentrate on anything but him.  
"You don't need to feel strange around me now… okay? Can we just forget what happened before when I—I…"  
"Asked me out when I obviously don't date," I finished for him.  
"Exactly… uh… I guess you could put it that way. May I ask why not?"  
"No, you can't."  
"Oh," He paused. "Well anyway, do you wanna hang out?"  
"As friends?"  
"Whatever you want," Adam grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I pulled away. "Hey… don't you trust me?"  
"Not really."  
"Well, you can. I wouldn't take advantage of a friend."

I zeroed into the depths of his egotistical soul as the statement was put into consideration. Was he telling the truth? Adam's eyes were full of respect and honesty, but I couldn't be sure.  
"Really?"   
The actor sighed in disappointment.  
"Really," he said firmly. "Can I come in?"  
"I… uh… yeah, I guess."   
"Thank you."  
We walked to the door, struggling all the way. When both of us caught up with each other, I opened it and entered. He followed me into my Living Room and sat down on my torn up leather futon. His fingers softly stroked the damaged places. I plopped down in the tan reclining chair across from him.  
"It's quite a place you have here," Adam said politely, turning his head every which way, taking in the mess of various pieces of clothing, pillows, purses and such scattered on my dirty carpet.  
I blushed again.  
"I'm sorry it's a mess. I wasn't exactly expecting any company…"  
"It's fine," He smiled. "I like it."  
My pulse raced.  
"Thanks," I grinned shyly, inhaling the scent of Adam that was now wafting around my house.


	4. OffLimits

"No problem!" He shrugged and laughed. "So, what have you been up to?"  
"Nothing eventful," I said awkwardly. "You?"   
Adam frowned, changing his mood.  
"Nothing too bad."  
I didn't know what to say, so we just stared at each other for a few minutes, taking everything in.  
"What happened?" I whispered, as if my voice would shatter the moment the two of us were sharing.   
The guy studied my face cautiously.  
"It's not important," he said quickly. "Just business."  
Without any warning, I got up and sat down next to him. His eyes followed mine and examined the currently green pathways to my hidden true intentions.  
"I—I've never had many friends, but don't they tell each other this kind of stuff?" I pressed.  
Adam's face was torn.  
"Well… yeah, I guess, but—"  
"Am I your friend?"  
He gazed into my eyes, in a daze.  
"If you want me to be."  
"Then…?"  
His hand grabbed mine gently and pulled it towards him. I stared at it, surprised but strangely content. He was electrocuting my body with just touch, but it calmed me.

"Do you really care that much about my life at work?" Adam asked.  
I shrugged, trying to suppress my sudden urge to softly press his lips to mine and…  
"Is that a bad thing?"  
He stroked my fingers gently, releasing butterflies into my stomach all the while. It took a few extra seconds for him to respond.  
"No, no… it's just that," Adam paused and looked away, avoiding all eye contact. "No one's really cared about my life enough to respond like you are now."  
No rational response came to me, so I just squeezed his soft, tan hand. He sighed and laid back. Shortly after, I followed his lead.  
"Promise you won't laugh at what I want to tell you?"  
"I wouldn't laugh," A smile formed at the corners of my mouth.  
"Is that a promise?"  
"Yeah, sure."  
His eyes abandoned the ceiling and landed on me. A dreamy look came to them.  
"I've got a feeling about us, ya know. I've gotta feelin' that we're gonna be best friends."   
"I—I've never really had a best friend before," I said shyly. "I was one of the kids who hardly talked or did anything, really. Does that make me a freak?"  
"Hardly. You're lucky. They usually just end up ditching you. That's what all of mine did, anyway. But… I think you're gonna be different."

"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate it."  
The dim lights seemed to have a remarkable effect on Adam's skin. It made him glow… and appear like someone from a fairytale dream. I mean, no one as gorgeous as this guy would desire my presence or nevertheless, friendship. That's just the way it was… always had been. There just had always been an invisible wall between me and well, attractive people.  
Matt had crossed that border, though. He had torn down my walls and entered into the heart that I call mine. Just like Adam was doing at this moment, although he probably wasn't aware of it.  
That's what terrified me—the fact that it was me who was falling down, deep in love… once again. I was breaking my promise.  
"Have you ever wondered what the future holds for you, Livia? I've always wondered…" Adam trailed off.  
I closed my eyes.  
"Not really."  
"Really?"  
"I've always been more into the past than the future."  
He propped himself on his elbows and furrowed his brow in confusion and suspicion.  
"May I ask you why?"  
I wasn't sure if I should tell him or not. I'd only known this person for two days, but the odd thing was, he was very easy to be around and for some reason, I felt like that in order to have a good, honest friendship, I needed to tell him. It was the right thing to do, after all.

I finally calmed down enough a few hours later to actually act normal again. It was the twenty-first hour and Adam had left for work. The aching in my head grew as time passed without him. As the clock ticked in my ear, I would think it was a time bomb telling me how much time was left before the hurt overtook me.  
That's strange, I thought. It felt like love—but, that would be bad. Love was off-limits. Adam knew it too, for he was told by me. Although, telling a new friend was a colossal mystery. No one ever warns someone they want to befriend to not fall in love with them.  
I slowly walked into my small, messy bedroom and laid on my double-sized bed. Some of the pillows fell to the carpet and went every which way down beside or under my body. I sighed and purposely fell to the ground, ready to pick them all up, but something under my mattress caught my eye—it was a piece of parchment paper with chicken-scratch lettering written on it. My breath caught in my throat as the last bit of it screamed at me… the thing was from Matt.

_Dear Livia,_

It's been two weeks now since we started going out and I'm ecstatic that someone as angelic as you would even consider hanging out with someone like me. We're in two totally different worlds and yet… you still find the time to encourage me and keep my head held high, despite my condition.  
Every day my life seems to get better… which is ironic, really. Leukemia patients usually just fade away, each and every day. I've seen it happen and my deepest fear used to be ending up like that but... there's no need to worry anymore. You're here now. Just remember: this is the most aggressive kind of Leukemia you can have, but it's also the most curable.  
I WILL get through this. I'll be the one who'll prove 'em all wrong and live.

Sincerely,  
Matt

Ironically, not one tear shed from me. I guess my eyes were all cried out and… well, I don't know. I really don't. It's not like the letter didn't send a dagger through my already tarnished heart. Trust me, it did. Time seemed to freeze when the knife was in the middle, where the pain was nearly unbearable. I could move around and things like that, but definitely not think or feel anything that wasn't misery. My heart yearned to be set free from it—the suffering, that is… not Matt. No, never him.  
I grabbed the pillows and picked myself up off the floor, onto the bed. The sheets were like needles, entering my soft, delicate skin. They were unwelcoming, but I disregarded it and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep… the one period of true peaceful solitude.


	5. Twelfth Night

I woke up early the next morning to a blasting roll of thunder and rain pounding on the window. My hands pressed a pillow to my sensitive ears, trying to block it all out. There wasn't any success… the sound was still there. Raindrops leaked onto my bed, exactly where I was lying down. The weather was a reflection of what was going on inside me. A sigh came out of me and I got up because obviously, going back to sleep was no longer an option. I trudged to the kitchen and sat down in an old wooden chair by the big, unnecessary table to just think… or not think. Yes, not thinking would be better. So, that's what happened. I sat there, in my unthinking state. The phone rang right as my eyes were closing, beginning to drift off. It made me fall out of the chair in surprise. My hand frantically reached up to pick it up and when I did, a shiver ran down my spine… Mark was on the other line. "Hey, Livia? You there?" He kept repeating before I got a chance to find my voice. What was it with guys nowadays? They've finally discovered how to make me tongue-tied. "Hi. How are you?" I asked. "Good… well, I just wanted to tell you that I'm closin' the shop for today." Mark paused. "Bad weather. Is that okay?" What kind of question was that? Without work, there'd be no him, and that didn't go over well in my head. "Yeah… that's great!" I lied. "Great! Well, have a nice day. Bye, Livia," He said kindly before the phone clicked on the other end, indicating that he hung up.

Ever so slowly, I put the phone on its receiver, disappointed that today was going to be a day that I'd not see Mark. That's why I actually enjoyed work and stayed there overtime a lot. The doorbell rang, interrupting my moment of sheer depression. It sounded twice before I even made the effort to get up. "Livia… you there?" Someone called from behind the wooden barrier that separated them from the inside of my house. They knocked louder and more consistently, apparently eager to enter. "I'm here!" I called, slowly advancing toward the door. "There's no need to be hasty." When I opened it, Adam was there, soaking wet… and even more gorgeous than ever before. "Hey, can I come in?" He asked. "Uh, yeah sure," I retreated as he passed by me, entering. "So, did you sleep well? The storm's pretty bad." Adam looked adorable when attempting small talk. It made me laugh, despite how sad I was. "What's so funny?" "Nothing," I answered a little too quickly. "Not to sound rude, but why are you here? Don't you still have work today?" "Nah. I'm not in the scene they're shooting today. You don't want me here? I'll leave if you—" My eyes grew wide as my head shook. "I don't think I want you to leave just yet."

"Okay, well… what do you wanna do today?" Adam asked lightly, looking around at his surroundings. I blushed a shade of scarlet every time a piece of dirty laundry caught his eye. "I thought you would know," I stated skeptically. "I mean, you're the one who came over here…" He looked up at the ceiling and beamed, taking in happiness at something that I must've said. It confused me… and made my heart flutter at the same time. This guy's smile was inimitable. The best imitator could probably never master how Adam looked at that moment. "Well, seeing you is enough for me." I stood next to the leather futon, twiddling my thumbs, unsure of what to do next. He glanced at me, hoping to see a flicker of pleased emotions, but I conveyed none. "That's sweet," I said. "So…" "So… what's on your agenda today, Livia?" He paused, dreading my answer. "Work?" "No, you can be, though. Mark called and said I didn't have to today," I walked forward so that I would be closer to him. "All things just work out in the end, huh? Everything just seems to come together," His arm was on my shoulders. It comforted me. "I guess… hey, I'm having a Twelfth Night fetish. I—I know you act so… do you wanna do it with me?" Right after the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. Fetish? It sounded like a disease. And, I'm not a good actor, either. Adam would have to try real hard not to laugh in my face. "Twelfth Night?" He grinned. His eyes smoldered. "Isn't that like, Shakespeare?" What? I loved the Bard. This offended me. "You don't like him?" His head shook as he chuckled. "Nah, I just didn't take you for a classical theatre person." "What's that supposed to mean?" "It just means that… that…" He stopped talking, searching for the correct words in his mind. "Oh, forget it. Do you have the script?" What a silly question. Of course I did! In fact, there were at least six books of Shakespeare's complete works on the bookshelf. Without thinking, I walked over to it, stopped and pulled out a copy. When I found the first page of the little comedic play, my eyes strayed over to Adam. "Yep. Got it!"

"Eager much?" Adam smirked. I ignored him. "Who're you gonna play?" "I don't know… how about Sir Toby? He's funny!" "No, he's just a pathetic drunk 'man'. Not funny." I snapped. "How about Orsino?" It was a big compliment to play the Count Orsino, in my opinion. The character had always held a special place in my heart. His presence had always been so strong… "The dude who was like, madly in love with that rich countess girl? Why him? I mean, he's sort of pathetic… chasing after someone who clearly isn't interested. You'd think the guy would take a hint, but—" "You just don't get it, Adam." I shook my head in frustration. "That's what love does to you. It turns you into a total fool, but that's what's beautiful about it! It'll make you do anything for that one special person…" "Oh." There was an awkward silence for awhile. It seemed like I had hurt him in a way that confused me. "Are… are ya gonna play him or not?" "Uh… sure, I guess. Do you mind if I do Viola too? She's fun," He nudged me in the ribs, which made me giggle. "That means I'm Olivia, then," A contented sigh was uttered from me.

Adam's eyebrows lifted in amusement. "So, are we going to do the whole thing or skip around?" I scratched my head, deliberating. Did we have enough time to run through it all the way through? I thought so. It wasn't too long… "The whole thing. It's too good to have things overlooked!" "Okay, well…" He moved his finger over the page, finding the beginning. It was almost lost in the sea of my own little side notes. "It starts here," I said, pointing to Orsino's opening line. "If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love! How quick and fresh art thou, That, notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe'er, But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical." The Count's monologue was strung into music and life, due to Adam's voice and impecable acting. It left me speechless. "Do you even knew what that means?" He laughed, mistaking my silence as confusion. "Yes." "Nerd," He muttered jokingly.

His teasing caused my tongue to stick out, making me seem like a six-year-old. It was so out of character, but that's what seemed to happen lately while being around him. I felt like a totally different person… a girl who was not bound by the shackles of love lost. It was a beautiful feeling. "We're never gonna finish it if you keep going off-script," I commented. Adam laughed, exposing his outrageously perfect pearly white teeth. As the sun glanced at them through the side window, they seemed to boast, but the gesture made it all the more delightful. After a few seconds though, he stopped and looked at my face, slightly surprised. "Oh… you were serious. Right. My bad." "Yes, perfectly serious," I snapped. "What'd I do to make you think otherwise?" "Nothing really… it's just, I don't know," He paused. "It's kinda hard to take someone who just stuck their tongue out seriously." I kicked him playfully. "Anyways… let's get back on to Twelfth Night, if you will."


	6. A Little Fun

After about five hours of acting, Adam and I read the last line out loud together and then tossed the play over to the book shelf, relieved that we finally finished. Well, he was relieved. For me, it was quite the contrary. The end of the script meant that our time together was coming to a close for tonight.

"What time is it?" I asked, looking directly at the clock, waiting eagerly for his voice to be heard.

"You tell me," he chuckled. "You're the one who's looking right at your answer."

Dang… he figured me out! My eyes were cast down in embarrassment.

"It's… uh… around 6:00," I paused. "Do you have to go now?"

Adam inched towards me, his face no more than two inches from mine.

"Do you want me to leave?" He whispered, his breath cool on my flushed cheeks.

"I—I… uh… not really."

My head ached with confusion and the warning as I realized that the void in my soul just might be filled. That the hollow just may be awashed with a new feeling of love for the man standing before me. All I wanted to do now was move even closer and have our lips meet… to give in to my unhealthy desires that weren't allowed. So, that's what I did. My lips moved cautiously over his, afraid he'd push me away, but he didn't. His fingers played with my filthy hair with great tenderness as our breathing grew more staggered. The pain in my head subsided.

"Are you sure about this, Livia? Is this what you really want?" He whispered during the rare moment when our lips were free. I trembled as my eyes met Adam's, silently answering his question.

The tan skin scorched my freezing body in pleasure. He was holding me very close to him… but a voice in my head screamed that it wasn't close enough. I tried very hard to ignore the chant that was playing inside. His arms constricted around my waist cautiously, afraid that I might think better and break the moment of sheer 

madness… and infatuation. A low moan escaped my lips, releasing a sweet scent. My head fell gently to Adam's shoulders.

"What are we doing here? Why am I doing this… I don't know you very well and… and… we've only began to… to…" I trailed off. The statement must've sounded so stupid to him! The babbling proceeded on, though. There was not one sentence that seemed to make one iota of sense in my overflowing-intensified brain.

The warm breeze found its way inside from the open window. For a moment, it broke me from the trance. But, when it went past, all the indecision was gone again. I blinked three or four times, confused and surprised. And yet, telling Adam to leave was no longer an option. I needed him. I needed him to make me feel whole again. My face turned so that it was in the hollow of his neck.

"You don't have to say anything," He whispered to the brown hair that was mine, rubbing the small of my back. "There's no need for me leave at the moment, anyway." 

**A/N: Why do I write this stuff at the age of thirteen? Who knows. Anyway, please review. You have no idea how much I love to hear from you. I'll update ugain once I have at least five or so. Easy enough? **


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